


listen to the signs of a changing season

by ArcReactorsandDragons



Series: When the light falls dying at your footsteps, what is left but to surrender [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Gen, I don't want to label it that completely, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Self-Esteem Issues, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, because I only researched it mildly but, uhm i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcReactorsandDragons/pseuds/ArcReactorsandDragons
Summary: A scapped but relevant scene from my story Sitting Patient in the shadow (till the blessed life shall come)Luther hasn't his room in a month (how can he when he can only look at himself in disgust? If he can not bare to set eyes upon his own mutated figure, how could everyone else?), Vanya feels it her duty to change that
Relationships: Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: When the light falls dying at your footsteps, what is left but to surrender [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884556
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	listen to the signs of a changing season

**Author's Note:**

> tw: self hate ?  
> I'm not completely sure how i would rate this considering the contents, just be wary if you anything that I mentioned in the tags could trigger you?  
> (If you have suggestions that i could put something else in the tags, please do)  
> I'm adding what would have been the first part of the scene from the other fic too, so you can easily read on from it

Luther doesn't leave his room for a month. 

Doesn't let her in,

( _ Go away, Vanya!)  _

_ (It would be better if you and Ben switched places.)  _

_ (You're  _ **_useless_ ** _.) _

Vanya keeps pushing.

She plays the violin in her room, even leans the covers of his favourite songs. 

It's when the sons in the room next to her become so loud she can actually  _ hear  _ them, (the walls are pretty thick, enough that you can't hear every little thing), that's when she has had enough. 

_ She remembers being in that position, in the one or two times that she  _ **_did_ ** _ cry (she learnt really that she never felt enough to cry, but there were times when she felt too much, when the loneliness overwhelmed her)  _

_ (Remembers the times she was invited to their midnight donut runs, but he the time she went to meet them in Luther’s room and found they had already left, remembers when Allison rumoured her to stop playing the violin and didn't lift it until Ben begged her.) _

_ wishing that someone would care enough to come into her room and comfort her.  _

She refused to let that happen to Luther, so that afternoon, she marches to the room next to her and opens the door. 

It's locked. She expected it, to be honest.

(That has never stopped her before.)

“Leave me alone,” Luther’s voice is shaky, desperate. 

All the locks in the house are pretty easy to unlock, Five had taught her once, she replays his instructions in her mind. 

The door swings open. 

“Vanya!” His voice is muffled by his pillows, but it sounds so scandalised it's almost funny, as if they were teenagers and she walked in on him doing something inappropriate. 

She walks in and sits on the side of his bed, it strikes her suddenly that she's never been this bold with her siblings before, “What's the matter?” 

It's as generic as it gets, and she regrets it as they leave her mouth, wincing. Obviously something is  _ very  _ wrong for Luther to not leave his room, even for training- but he laughs. 

It's choked and halted, but it's something. 

(She notes with sadness that his hair is longer, and greasy. She wonders when the last time he took a shower was, what could have been so bad that the boy who once fiddled with his hair and appearance for so long, he could beat Klaus in time taken up in the bathroom.) 

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn't underst-” 

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, Luther Hargreeves,” Vanya bites out, she heard that line enough times in her life, and knows for a fact that whenever it's used it's more to get her to leave than anything to do with  _ understanding _ . 

He finally looks up at her, turning his face away from the snotty pillow. Luther looks… awful, she has never seen him cry before, and it's not a good look on him, streaming nose and glassy eyes, he has stubble and scratch marks on his face.

More than that though, he looks surprised. Surprised that Vanya,  _ little number Seven _ , would dare speak to him like that. 

“What happened?” She reiterates, staring at him, her long hair brushing his face, (Luther wonders when it got so long), “And don’t you dare say that I won't understand, because  _ I will.  _ I'm probably one of the only humans on the planet without powers that will understand”.

* * *

Luther stares up at Vanya, her words sweeping through him, and he realises, with a pang of shame, that she's right. 

If anyone actually, even among her siblings, it's Vanya who will understand, (she watches everything that happens and takes it with stride, never questions, is never so caught up in her own life (powers), that they ignore and invalidate everyone else's)  _ but _ , it's never happened to her before. 

And she's looking down at him with something akin to pity that he just  _ hates _ , he's  _ Number One _ , the Leader for Christ's sake! Number Seven has no right to look at him like that, to barge into his room and sit on his bed, he wants to tell her so, but-

“Something happened in the mission,” he begins instead, because this is  _ Number Seven,  _ the girl who haunts the halls of the Academy and always looks so  _ lonely _ , and he hasn't seen the outside of his bedroom in months and he’s  _ desperate _ . “It went wrong. T- to,” be stops for a minute, a catch in his throat, “To save me, Dad had to do something, I- Pogo had to- his blood. It- it changed me. It's better to just… show you”, the speech is muddled but Vanya just looks at him patiently, as he turns over and sits up, letting the covers fall down to expose his chest. 

(He hated wearing his clothes, nothing fit, it all felt too tight, skin ready to burst the seams and the fabric making his skin  _ itch _ and  _ writhe  _ uncomfortably. The extra hair catching and pulling and-)

But Vanya just says, “Okay”. 

Okay.

_ Okay.  _

As if all the pain, the  _ disgust _ he's feeling, (look at him? He  _ knows _ it’s-  _ he’s _ disgusting).

“Okay? Just  _ look _ at me, Vanya,” his voice cracks embarrassingly but that's the least of his worries right now. He’s gesturing at his chest, eyes wild. 

But Vanya just nods, “It’s still  _ you _ , Luther”, she says his name like a grounding tool, an arm reaching out to touch his shoulder, pretending he doesn't flinch away. 

She sits further on the bed, back leaning against the headrest and and legs out infront of his, and after a pause, Luther lays back, defeated. Because her eyes hold no disgust, no horror, nothing but acceptance and she' touched his shoulder like it's nothing, and when he leans back her hair brushes his shoulder and his bicep presses into her and he  _ knows  _ it must be uncomfortable because the bedclothes sweaty and, and  _ and.  _

They sit in silence, Luther waiting for Vanya to break the silence. He doesn't know why, he knows she's not one to talk first, but this is a day of firsts apparently- 

“When was the last time you showered?” She asks. 

He looks down at her, horrified, red flooding his face… but she's right. It's been a while, since he could bring himself to look at his body, he can't face the humiliation. 

(Feeling too big and awkward and uncomfortable and he can't stand to even remember what he looks like, let alone take a shower and have to  _ deal  _ with his body. And he hasn't got around to realising how  _ big  _ his body is, how he fits into rooms, how much space he takes up and he has to get used to his grip strength now.) 

(He can't find it in himself to care that he doesn't smell that good or his hair is shiny with grease and knotted.) 

“I… it's been…” Luther trails off, trying to find a way to  _ explain _ how he feels, but Vanya just nods and quickly darts out the room- he feels so fucking awful then, even  _ Vanya _ has walked away now, she's put up with enou- but she comes back in a moment later, carrying sheets and something fluffy and… baby wipes? 

“Klaus,” she explains with shrug, handing the wipes to him, “wipe yourself down with these,” she suggests. “You can do it under the covers- I can turn around if you feel uncomfortable, just to make yourself feel a bit fresher.” 

Luther can feel himself gaping at her, holding the plastic package, how does she know…

But he does as she says, making her turn around in the corner, where she hums a low tune until he gives her the go ahead. 

“Now, here,” she shoves the fluffy thing at him, and he catches it, realising it's an over large dressing gown, “put it on, and go for a walk around the halls, just to make sure you're exercising, a change of scenery, and I’ll change your sheets. Klaus bought it oversized for when he stays here, he likes the bigger clothing when he’s coming down from something”. 

He's openly gaping at her now, because no one really cares for them like this, (Grace tries, but when they were younger- when it really mattered to them- she hadn't really developed properly yet, and as motherly as it seemed, she just always was… cold), so he catches on the only part of the sentence he can even begin the fathom. 

“You just have extra bed-sheets laying around?” He asks, face twisting in confusion. 

“I'm a girl,” Vanya replies in a flat tone, an eyebrow raised, as she turns around so he can put on the robe. And he's glad so she doesn't have to see him blush again. 

He doesn’t reply so she continues, “Go out in the hallway, or sit in my bedroom, or  _ something. Shoo”.  _

Feeling baffled, he shuffles into the hallway- when did Vanya become so commanding? Sure she still seemed so… so blank, like a pale imitation of a real person, but that was what he was used to. Now there was something else as well. 

Doing as she recommended, he went into Vanya’s room. It was so different since he last saw it, (more than a month ago, they never really went into the other’s room, like an unspoken agreement), obviously Klaus had realised the same thing he had- her room was to bare.

Now an old, tall jar acting as a vase, held a bunch or lavender, giving the room a sweet smell, stood on the vanity.

(He didn’t look in the mirror, refusing to acknowledge the person in, the inhuman proportions and hulking shape. The way the dressing gown was tight on his shoulders, though it fit him better than he would have thought.)

Propped up against it was a grainy picture of Klaus and Vanya together, probably taken on a disposable camera given the quality. Vanya had her usual tight smile, genuine but small, as if she didn’t believe  _ more  _ would be tolerated, while Klaus was grinning maniacally, eyes bright and smile unforced. It was… cute. 

He glanced around the rest of the room, a poster of Broadway’s Phantom of The Opera pinned up on the wall, along with several old medical diagrams, detailing the body- one of muscles, one of the skeleton, one of the nerves, one of the blood vessels. Where did she get those from? Probably Pogo or Mom, ripped from an old book or something, maybe why was more the question? He knows she helps Grace a lot, patching up Diego and himself… and Klaus…

Shaking his head, he looked at her bed, where a plushie the size of his head lay- it was a little elephant, fluffy and, when he picked it up, soft. 

Luther stokes it's ears, staring at it, he thinks about how all the others got plushies- gifts from fans- but Vanya must never have gotten one. 

He’s still just staring at it when Vanya pokes her head into the room, “It's done”.

“Where did you get this?” Luther says, wincing when he realised how accusing he sounds, especially when her gaze hardens, face dropping from the polite smile he's used to her wearing. But he can't help himself, he doesn't know what else to do, he's feeling so  _ overwhelmed _ , Vanya is trying to help him for  _ some reason.  _ Doing her best to make him feel a bit better the only way she knows how- she’s never been that emotional, so he supposes what she did is her way or support, and it does help, just a little bit, even though he knows that his disgusting new body, with its tough skin being strangely sensitive and the hair and how  _ disgusting _ \- he knows he will  _ never  _ be comfortable with it. So he relapses into his usual role- Leader. 

(Overbearing, Diego would say. Intrusive and a suck up, Klaus would say. Allison wouldn't say anything, but she would sigh dispairingly.)

She walks forward, avoiding his gaze, hand reaching out to stroke the toy, “Klaus. Got it for me 'bout two months ago,” she shrugged, “he said that they thought I deserved something?” 

“He probably stole it,” Luther said unthinkingly, he probably did, it was  _ Klaus,  _ he barely had money for drugs.

Vanya snatched the elephant out of his hands, placing it in front of the pillows, smoothing out the random wrinkles on bed covers, “ _ He didn’t _ , he showed me the receipts. And before you say anything,  _ he _ gave me them, in case I wanted to return it.”

Luther got the feeling if Vanya was prone to more dramatic outbursts of emotion, then he would be getting shouted at, regardless of how he was feeling, but the resigned and muted  _ displeasure  _ of him was somehow worse.

“Uhm, sorry,” he said in way of apology, and while it  _ was  _ an actual apology- it even contained the word ‘sorry’! But it didn't feel like a real one, even to him, and it made him feel so much worse when Vanya accepted it with a smile, and he hurried to change the subject, “Heard from anyone while I’ve been…”, he trailed off,  _ while I’ve been hiding away from my own as the world's eyes , too afraid that they see me as a monster? When he couldn't bear to move from his bed?  _

(Everyone else of course meant Numbers Two, Three and Four.)

(Really it meant Three.)

Vanya seemed to get both of these unspoken things, because she stands in the middle of the room, and  _ winced,  _ “Sorry, no one has come around recently, not even Klaus”.

No one? He'd been basically missing for a month, and he knew that the footage of him barely escaping the collapsed building with his life would be on the news and… no one checked up on him? Not even a call? 

“Allison's shooting a new movie in Puerto Rico?” Vanya offered, stepping forward to gently clasp his arm, beginning to guide him towards his own room. Luther hates that  _ Vanya _ , thinks of him as an invalid, needing  _ comfort _ , needed  _ her _ , little  _ useless _ Number Seven to offer platitudes and care for him- he resisted the urge to tear his arm from her grasp, (he doesn't notice the way how she doesn't flinch when her fingers touch his tough skin, how even he hasn't been able to do that without bile rising in his throat and the urge to hurl).

“Right,” he muttered, stepping back into his room- his immediate through residence as he actually looked around the room, she was kind enough to bin the wetwipe he had tossed to one side, new covers on his bed, looking crisp and cozy. Vanya has covered the vanity mirror with a towel, and left the pack of wet wipes on the surface. 

(Where was Allison during this? They were meant to be best friends, live normal lives together, but here he is, deformed and lonely, apparently relying on  _ Vanya  _ to feel good about himself, and she was off in some luxury foreign port filing the newest blockbuster. What happened?) 

The door closed with a click behind him, and Vanya was gone. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, head buried in his hands, hopelessly ignoring the way the bed creaks under his weight and how awful his hair feels, and pretends that the comfort of new sheets doesn't mean more to him than it should. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes ik i use the word disgust alot, but only cause feel that when you are putting yourself down, you tend to revert to basic insults  
> also yes im posting this at 1:54 am and that is why the notes and tags arent well thoughout im so sorry  
> ALSO yes u see luther being like, aha maybe be vanya is better than their father seems, is more than just a step in for thier other siblings, but he IS also like, haha Vanya, scum of the other earth cant believe its U thats helping me, pathetic


End file.
